


Practice Safe Slaughter

by Ellislash (MintSharpie)



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Angst, Injury, M/M, Nellis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintSharpie/pseuds/Ellislash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rochelle's hurt, and the stress is getting to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Safe Slaughter

**Author's Note:**

> Original publication date 12/10/2011

"Gotta be a hospital in this city, Lord. Gotta be."

I heard Coach pray, and he shot one of those spitter bitches 'fore it could hock a loogie at us. I prayed too. We had to get off the street, somewhere safe, before it was too late. I could hear  _them_  breathing, hiding all around, and I wanted to kill those sonsabitches so bad I could  _taste_  it… But Nick had my gun, and my hands were full anyhow.

"There! Three blocks over!"

"Uh, Nick? That ain't a hospital."

He made like he was gonna call me names again, but didn't. Instead he looked at me and my piggy-back rider, and he dropped that stone face of his. Almost like he gave a damn about us.

"Trust me."

Coach squinted. "Yo’ eyes're better'n mine, son. Where we goin'?"

Nick didn't answer, he just started walking. We had to follow him.

Everything was the same sick greenish-grey color, so I followed the white suit instead of trying to see where he was going. He took us to someplace that looked like a clinic, like where you go to get flu shots. Not that they ended up doing any good, in the end.

"It's a long shot, but I bet they've got a full surgery in there." Nick pointed to the big purple sign on the lawn. "And I don't wanna hear it,  _pastor_. It’s a little late for that shit."

I could hear Coach praying and apologizing to God, but I stopped listening real fast. Something hot was dripping down my back, and I got that icky, cold feeling in my belly.

"We gotta try, she's bleedin’ again!" I musta looked real scared or something, 'cuz they got moving right quick.

There were lots of dead folks inside. Mostly ladies. Kids too, and that just broke my heart. Coach kept right on praying. Even Nick looked like he was gonna cry. That, or murder the next poor bastard to look at him funny. I couldn't rightly say.

At least there weren't many zombies in there. We jammed and blocked the front door with desks and shit, but there weren't any windows, and it was dark 'til we found a generator to juice up some lamps. Well, when I say we... I actually just carried her and felt useless. Nick and Coach did all the work.

"Is this a doctor's office, or a goddamn fortress?"

"Think who they were dealing with, Coach. In the South? You better believe they built this place to handle riots."

Thank God, there was a surgery room. It was even still locked, and everything inside was clean and shiny as a brand-new shotgun. Nick picked the lock. He keeps saying not to ask how he knows this shit, but sometimes you gotta wonder. It wasn't one of those times.

They helped me put her down on the funny-shaped table. I'd been carrying her for two days and my back was killing me, but it had to wait. Coach pulled out our last bottle of water.

"C'mon, baby girl. Drink up, now."

My hands looked exactly like I'd been doing all the shit I'd been doing. I wasn't even sure what color my own skin was anymore. Nick threw a box of rubber gloves at me. They were way too small, and they hurt, but it was better than nothing. We peeled the bandage off. It was red straight through and it stuck a little, like it was glued on instead of taped.

"Shit. Aw shit, shit, shit..."

"Shut up, Overalls."

Coach found some morphine and hooked it up. It took the pain out of her face and stuck it in my chest instead.

We cleaned out the infection. It was thick and smelled godawful, which is saying something after all the shit we'd been breathing. We got a whole huge tube of anti-biotic goop and slathered it everywhere. Coach dug out a bunch of needles and thread.

"All right. Who knows how to do this?"

Nick and me both did. I've sewn up Keith and even my own self a good few dozen times. God knows where Nick learned it. Probably the same place he learned to pick locks.

We fixed her up best as we could. It was like getting under her hood, y'know, way too personal-like. I could see her engine, and her carburetor, and her oil and gas were leaking everywhere. Angels musta been watching over us, or she'd never’ve got that far alive.

We grabbed the goop again and layered it on thick over the stitches, then used about a mile of gauze to wrap her up. Coach made her swallow some antibiotics, but his hands were shaking. Nick's shirt was purple, and I knew I musta been covered in her blood, too. Back _and_ front, from the piggy-back ride. It was almost funny.

Me and Coach went out the back door for groceries, since we'd have to hunker down ‘til she was better. We didn't find much at first, and Coach wanted to go back, but I wasn't gonna give up that quick. I finally saw a supermarket, which was pretty much empty, but we took a chance and got lucky. The stockroom hadn't been touched, on account of the huge-ass lock on the huge-ass door.

It took a while, but I picked the lock the way Nick showed me to, that one time when the safehouse was in a bank. The freezer and fridge were dead and stank something awful, but there were whole boxes full of cans and energy bars and all kinds of dried stuff, and even bottles of water! Me and Coach, we knelt down right there and thanked the Lord for that blessing.

We brought back two whole shopping carts full of supplies. There was an issue with them rattling and bugging the zombies, so we had to fight 'em off a couple times. Coach was awesome, busting heads and shit, and once he made a smoker grab a zombie instead of me so I could kill it. We made it back okay, and none too soon, 'cuz it was getting dark.

"Took you long enough. I was getting bored."

"Nice to see you, too, boy. How's our girl?"

Nick and Coach talked, but I didn't listen. I went to the operation room. She was still asleep and her skin was hot, but our stitches weren't leaking. She looked lonely, all laid out like that, and I hated that I couldn't hug her up and tell her it was all gonna be okay.

"The hell’re you crying about? She'll either get better or she won't."

I just about decked him.

"Christ, Ellis, chill out. Breaking down doesn't help us. Doesn't help  _her_."

"I ain't breakin’ down! Just... I'm just tired." It was true that I felt like falling down to sleep right there on the floor, but I lied about the crying. She was the only one of 'em to believe me that we'd all get outta here alive. She was the only other person who'd smile at me. It was hard to keep my spirits up without her.

I musta looked some kinda hell standing there, 'cuz that ice-cold sonofabitch grabbed my shoulders - actually  _touched_  me! And not ‘cuz he had to get a jockey off me or some shit. He did it on purpose.

"Hey, look at me.  _Look_  at me."

I'd never noticed how green his eyes were. Come to think, he'd never looked me in the eye before.

"It's okay. We'll be okay. You hear me? She's gonna get better. You did a great job in surgery and you did a great job finding us supplies. I mean it. Buck up, kiddo. We're gonna get through this."

I dropped the brim of my hat to keep him from seeing, but he musta felt my shoulders shake.

"I'm fine, I'm okay, really, just peachy..."

He musta taken off his shirt, to clean it or something. All he had on was that fancy white jacket of his, but his chest was warm. I left a damp patch on his shoulder, and he just stood there and held me like he cared. Didn't say a word.

"Th- thanks. Sorry 'bout that. I'm good."

"Yeah, whatever."

I think I was blushing, but Nick got all Nick-y again and Coach was still someplace else.

We dragged a couple of couches from the waiting room, so we could sleep near her. I took first watch, and kept as close an eye on her as I did on the door. She started moaning twice, and it made my heart rip into little tiny pieces. All I could do was turn up the morphine, for the pain.

Nick knew what he was talking about when he picked that place. Not a single motherfucker so much as knocked on the door. I figured I could take a breather, so I knelt with my shotgun like one of those dragon-killing knights with their swords. I thanked God for His help so far. I begged Him to save her life, and Coach's, and Nick's...

"I'm flattered."

I damn near shot him.

" _Jesus_ , man! Ya got a death wish? Don't’chu  _ever_  sneak up on a man with a gun when he's prayin'. Shit."

"Just couldn't sleep."

"Well what're ya talkin' ta me for? Ain't yer watch for another hour yet."

"I need a reason? Dammit, Overalls, don't tell me you're not scared shitless."

"What's it ta you?"

"More than you think."

"The hell’s that mean? I ain't scared a' no zombies. Been through plenty already, and I'll take out as many more as I gotta-"

"C'mon, don't play."

"Ain't playin'. You want next watch or what?"

"Fuck you."

I couldn't sleep at first either, until I realized something.

"Hey, Nick."

"What."

"It's you needs ta quit playin'. Tell me what the hell yer bein’ so... so  _weird_  about. It's buggin’ me."

"Bugging you?"

"You heard me."

For no reason I could tell, the bastard laughed. He's got that fake, sarcastic laugh most of the time, kinda sounds like a dog barking. But this one didn't. It was sad, if that makes any sense.

"Ellis, you can be so fucking dense sometimes.”

"Now that was just uncalled for! You've always got that face on, man, like ice. I can't tell shitfrom it, even if I  _wanted_ ta look at yer ugly mug - which I don't."

I expected him to snap at me again, but when he talked he sounded quiet. Gentle, even.

"Go to sleep, kiddo."

I did.

She was worse in the morning, but Coach thought that was a good thing.

"We gotta sweat this fever out, boys. Grab blankets, clothes, anythin'. Give 'em here, Nick."

I cleaned out her stitches and made a new bandage. She was shaking worse than Keith did when he grabbed that transformer on a dare. I held her hand, but it didn’t help. It just made my arm shake, too.

For the first time on that godforsaken trip we had nothing to do. The zombies left us alone. We didn't talk much - I musta been way tireder than I knew. Then she started moaning again, and goddamn if it wasn't the worst sound I'd ever heard in my life. I stayed with her, tried talking to her, but I didn’t have a clue what to say. I gave her more pills instead.

Coach came in after a while. By then her skin seemed cooler and she wasn't shaking any more, but she was hardly breathing.

"Go cheer Nick up. He's startin' to damage my calm."

"But-"

"I'll take care of her. Go on, now."

Nick wasn't in camp. I didn't wanna holler for him, so I took a look around in the doctor's offices. A couple of 'em had these real detailed posters of a lady's... well… y'know.

"It's not  _that_  funny."

"THIRD time! Fuck, man, you wanna be out on the table too?"

"You should be more aware of your surroundings. And not just when there's a cunt on the wall, dipshit."

"Hey, if ya can't deal with bein’ upset, don't take it out on me. What the hell ya doin’ over here anyhow?"

"It's quieter. Or it was, before you showed up."

"Ya didn't hafta come talk ta me. We coulda played hide'n'seek all day, an’ then I'd go outside ta find ya, an’ you'd’a never seen me again an’ had all the fuckin’ quiet ya want!"

"And I'd hate that."

"Damn straight ya - wait, what?"

"You heard me."

"Nick, you ain't made a lick a’ sense in days."

"C'mere."

"Why?"

"Just c'mere."

We sat on the exam table. He was awful close to me, but for once he didn't bitch about it.

"Ya comin’ back?"

"Not just yet. I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"Us."

"Huh?"

"Us. The four of us. I... I don't want it to be three."

"Oh."

"And it’s not just her, either. You haven’t been the same since she got jumped. And… fuck me, I never thought I'd say this, but… I miss your dumbass stories. I miss that idiotic redneck optimism. I miss _you_.”

“Nick, you don’t even _like_ me.”

“Come on, kiddo, I think we both know that’s not true.”

There was nothing on God’s green earth I could say to that.

“Without you it’s… everything’s pointless. It's like, if  _Ellis_  is depressed, I may as well shoot myself now, ‘cuz this shit's deeper than I can ever get out of.”

"So, yer all grouchy... ‘cuz a’  _me_?"

"Yeah, Overalls, it's all your fault."

That time I could tell he was kidding. He didn't sound like he meant it hurtful. And somehow his head wound up on my shoulder, and I didn't know what to do besides put my arm around him. He'd done the same for me, and a man remembers a thing like that. And as God is my witness, the bastard cried.

"Shh, hey now, ain't no call for this, yer gonna get me started again..."

He covered my mouth with his hand.

"Sh... shut up, Ellis."

He cried quiet, like he expected somebody'd hit him for it. Last time I got cried on was when me and Keith's girl had to take him to the hospital for the lawnmower thing. I didn't think petting Nick's hair would help, but he'd still got some zombie bits in it, so I brushed 'em out and he seemed to like it. When he was done he'd got blood on his face, from my shirt. I wiped it off.

"Heh. Yer eyes an’ the blood together, they remind me a’ Christmas. How dumb is that?"

He musta been too tired to snap at me. We stayed sitting there for a while, ‘til he got himself together, and then we headed back to camp.

"The hell y’all been? Get over here. Look who's awake!"

"H... Hey, guys..."

" _Rochelle!_ "

She was weak, but she was smiling again. Me and Nick smiled too, and looked at each other across the table.

"There you go, Overalls. You can stop being a fucking crybaby now."

I knew he didn't mean it.


End file.
